Without
by Goblinark
Summary: He sang to her, his words had power, as did all words. They changed her, cursed her, enchanted her. Sarah now has plans to revisit his kingdom with an old friend after a 30 year absence. How will it go? Well, read and see! Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Author note: It's been a while. I'm sorry for being away so long my fanfiction friends! I haven't written a word in the last few years. Life and stuff...Anypoo, I'm sorry, my skills are more rusty than ever, if I had any to begin with. Comment, tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or the characters.

Hope you enjoy. The first few chapters will be a little slow going but it'll pick up I promise.

I also do art and hope to draw some for this. I did a few "Without" pages, this story is a remake of it. Most of it will be completely different.  
gallery/33052654/labyrinth

 **Chapter 1**

 _Reminiscing_

Flowing fabrics, swirling hair like smoke around her face, her body moved gracefully in the endless waters. She danced in his loose white silky shirt. It clung to her curves and fanned out in her wake. The light from above kissed and shimmered over her skin like layers of rippling, waving tiger stripes. Beneath the surface where she dwelled, she could hear him singing to her, his voice sent goosebumps over his skin.

Leather clad hands broke the through the liquid barrier, searching for her, reaching for her. His arms bare, moving deeper into the water, soon his face and body was now completely submerged as she was. She straightened her arm towards him, they fingers met and entwined, pulling one another closer to each other. She wrapped her naked legs around his lean frame and leathered lower half, as he held her to close.

His hair like a platinum silk halo, his pale completion reflected the glow from the surface. His handsome features, relaxed, almost warm as his mismatched eyes watched her with a deep longing. She craned her neck, gently lifting a hand to brush aside some wayward strands of her hair between them as they began close the distance. Her lashes fluttered whilst their lips brushed together softly….

They kissed in the blue gloom, floating their own personal ocean.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a dark room, devoid of a light save the green hue that illuminated subtle hints of a bedroom from a clock radio, sitting upon a night table. Flickering ever so slightly as the minutes changed. The rustling of bed clothes stirred up some life in that room from its still airs as a second, brighter source of light broke the darkness.

In bed was a girl around the age of 19 or 20, squinting at her cell phone with sensitive, sleepy eyes. She groaned, still groggy, not yet coherent. Her molten gold coloured orbs glanced at the time, as she did every time she woke, her body on autopilot. It was 11:40pm. The young looking girl sniffled and stretched, phone in hand.

11:40pm, her mind repeated.

Suddenly very alter and in a flash, she was sitting up, slightly panicked. " _Shi-i-i-i-ite!_ " She blurted, throwing her covers off and her legs over the side of her bed in one graceful move. Click went the switch as she turned the overhead light on for her rather large, rich looking room.

She rushed and navigated through the beautiful and antique furnishings of what looked to be ranging from the regency era to modern day, set up in a similar manner to a lady of the regency era as well.

To the bathroom she strode, grabbing a used but reasonably clean towel off a chair pushed into a writing desk against a wall.

Tossing the towel on the marble counter top upon entry, she switched on the light there as well before hurrying to the in wall shower and turning on the hot water, leaving it going to warm while she stripped out of her silky sleepwear.

After a quick adjustment to the temperature, she stepped into stream of water for a quick wash, emerging about five minutes later. Dripping with liquid beads, she snatched her towel once again and wrapped herself in the plush cloth.

She stood in front of the mirror above the bathroom counter which was actually the entire upper portion of the wall. Her golden eyes glided over her own reflection as if searching for a change in her appearance. But all was the same. Exactly the same as she has been for so long.

Her long raven locks, darker than black velvet. Her skin ashen, but supple and smooth over her lean body. Lips plump but as pale as the rest of her. Her eyes almond shaped and piercing. But no longer green as they once were. Now they were yellow, as any other predator, though matte, no shimmer of life anymore.

With a sigh she brought her mind back to reality. "I don't have time for this!" she chided herself and went back into a flurry of movement. Quickly drying herself, she then flung her hair forward, wrapped it in the now damp towel and began patting the excess water out of her tresses as much as possible.

After about ten minutes of rooting through her armoire, and fumbling about trying to get her burgundy, sweet heart cut party dress on. She grabbed her phone off her bed.

"11:57" she mumbled.

Out her bedroom she flew. Down several hallways and stairs, her sharp ears could pick up music and voices, ever growing louder the close she drew to the basement of the large apartment block she lived in.

With a minute to spare, she reached the red door she needed. Placing her slender hands on the wood and lightly pushed it open to reveal the burst of life, laughter, and music (Lana Del Rey – Off to the Races) on the other side. She stepped into the lavish lounge of a brothel house. Black marble floor, red velvet curtains, large antique oak bar. Leather chairs with tables in alcoves, two around dark purple chaise lounges. It reminded her of a film House of Pleasures with all the fancy looking fabrics and furnishings of a 19th century high class bordello.

Glancing about the busy room, filled with lovely ladies, dressed to entice yet remain demure. Many including herself on modern mid length cocktail dresses. Her eyes locked on the one woman that always had a way of sticking out from a crowd. She was short but not even a blind man could miss her.

"Miir" she called above the chattering chicks to the mother hen, who was in a long form fitting, lace, black evening gown that swept the floor.

The woman named Miir, known as the madam of this establishment was leaning against the bar when her pointed ears twitched at the sound of her name.

She turned with a smile. Her perfectly pouty full lips upturned on her oval pure alabaster white face, her hair to match. Her eyes sharp and deep red with not whites. Only darkness where they should be. And her body was... a brick house.

'She's mighty mighty' thought the raven beauty, amused.

They moved closer together through the beings that filled the room. Miir carrying a flute of champagne in each hand, extended one out to her as they met.

"Perfect timing, Happy New Year's Sarah darling" chimed Miir as everybody cheered.

It was midnight.

Sarah hadn't even realised they had counted down the seconds, lost in her own mind as usual. It was just as well.

Time is an illusion.

Sarah accepted the drink with a thank you. "Happy New Year's Miir, welcome to 2016" she returned happily before leaning in for a chased kiss with her companion before sipping her sparkling wine.

"A moment later and you would have missed it luv." Miir remarked.

"Yeah, I slept in. Was having another dream again" She replied, then gestured towards an empty alcove.

Now seating in a mildly more private setting, they relaxed, drinking moderately and chatted as old friend did. "Was it the labyrinth again?" Questioned Miir, a hint of concern laced her velvet voice.

Sarah nodded looking off toward the mingling mass. "Something like that" she muttered.

It had been 30 years since she had been whisked away by the glam rock king of the Goblins. The night that changed her life for all times. But she regretted nothing. Not even wishing her young brother away.

At first it was hard when she returned.

She was so young, a greedy, self centered slip of a girl, bloomed into a woman over the course of those thirteen hours, with the help of a kick in the pants from a seemingly evil king. Though looking back now, Sarah felt so foolish to even consider him a villain. Not truly anyways. He was vain, arrogant, and egotistical, sure. But not villainous.

She had seen true evils later in her life and he did not compare.

She ran the labyrinth, she beat the king, she won the game but lost everything else she ever wanted and more come time.

Living as a teen aged human girl who had been touched by magic was one thing but knowing she had been touched was another.

She immersed herself in as much lore and legends as she could get her hands on, forgoing any hopes for a social life, connections to anyone including Toby. She alienated the people she once knew. Kept her nose in books throughout her high school years.

It wasn't until about a year after the labyrinth that she noticed her health was less than decent.

As time went on, her step mother Karen took notice and began pushing her to see a doctor. They could not pin point her illness or cause, they'd prescribe an assortment of medication anyway.

Nothing helped.

The only escape from her failing body and troubled mind was in her dreams.

She dreamed of a life she might have had if she stayed in the other realm. She didn't consider it an option while she faced the goblin king, though she wished she had. She could have traded her live back home for one with him, and still saved her kid brother. But she was young, and blind to so many truths.

She dreamed of him, the goblin king.

Jareth

He had certainly left an impression on her. Not good at first but grew better the more mature she became. But however much she thought about that man, she wasn't foolish enough to think he would even remember her. However, she had never forgotten him.

A thought crossed her mind a few times over the years, perhaps he was the cause of her now current condition.

There was words in the back of her mind. Something he has said. She could not recall them exactly. But she felt some importance there...

Unlikely she thought, but not impossible.

By the time Sarah was 19, she was in hospital, bed ridden. Her system was shutting down, her organs failing. She didn't want to die but she knew her time was nearing its end.

She was terrified but could not fight it. Exhaustion was too strong. It was the beginning of October and the last thing she remembered was looking out from her hospital window and seeing her favourite season in its glory of reds, yellows, and oranges, the leaves floating by.

Just one week before her 20th birthday on November 1st, she slipped into a comatose for a few days before passed away peacefully in her slumber.

She was buried in the cemetery near the park she once play acted, alongside her grandparents.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Here is the next chapter! I know it's slow but it'll pick up as we go. And I apologize, my writing skills are VERY RUSTY, and the words just aren't flowing and fitting together as I would like... Sigh. I also apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes! I'm not a Pokemon trainer, I can't catch them all...lol

Anyways, I'd like to thank WhiteInfinity21 for my first review of this story. Every little bit of support helps!

I'll see about some art for this chapter tonight and post in the beginning of the next chapter. I have some for the end of next chapter already. : 3

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Labyrinth or any Jim Henson stories or characters.

 **Chapter 2**

 ** _The Wakening_**

It was there she awoke. In the blackness, the silence, not even the sound of her breath could she hear. She lifted her cold thin arms to try and rub her numb face only to knock them against wood and satin. She carefully smoothed her hands along the walls to discover she was in some sort of softly lined box.

Confused, scared, desperate to escape the confined space, she screamed though her voice was weak and cried with a dry throat for help but no one seem to hear her pleas. Frantically she kicked and struggles, thumping and banging against the walls until finally she clawed at the silken lining though to the wood, fighting though the heavy damp earth to the moist grassy surface. Caked in dirt, and mud she pulled herself out, tearing her play princess dress on the splintered casket. Her sickly pale hands blooded and embedded with copious amounts of slivers. They stung but the pain had not registered much.

The unmistakable cloak of night covered the land though she could see as clear as day. The air smelled of petrichor, as the evidence of a recent shower lingered upon stone rows and greenery in which she found herself.

She was in Oak Hill Cemetery, she's visited it every year as well as passed it daily to and from school. Her mind was all a haze. A blur of anxiety and emotions. She didn't understand why or how she got there, or anything else for that matter. All she knew it she wanted to be in the comfort of her room.

What does one do when they are in such a state of internal turmoil? They search for a familiar place, some where they felt safe and secure. For many including herself, it was home. What else could she do…

She wandered down her aged suburb streets of Nyack, in her flats, plucking the embedded bits of wood from her palms and digits. The asphalt wet and shimmery, reflecting the dim yellow lights from the lamps that were strategically placed along roads and walkways. It cold with a soft autumn breeze, the heat rising from the sewers in white clouds, mingling with the cool air before fading into the darkness.

Wrapping her arms around herself in a feeble attempt to block the frigid temperatures from her already freezing body, she trudged forward, her mind calming at the familiar surroundings.

Her feet carried her to the front stoop of her house at the base of a small hill. Up the steps she went and when she reached for the doors. She jiggled the handle and then the other. But it was no use as they were both locked, not that she didn't try a few more times before going to attempt the back door.

No luck.

She knocked on it and called to her father and step mother as best she could but her throat was terribly scratchy and her voice strained.

No response.

It was then she realised that Merlin, her 9 year old English sheepdog wasn't barking. It was at moment she began to notice things out of the ordinary. There was no patio furniture, in fact there was nothing in the yard. She positioned herself, one hand gripping the door jam, the other reaching for the window sill. Up on her toes she leaned as far over the back steps to peek through the kitchen window.

It was empty. Not even the curtains remained. She glanced beyond...

Empty. The house was empty.

Her family was gone. Entirely.

She felt the panic rise in her chest. Everything was wrong. Why was she buried, why was her family gone. Was she in some horrible nightmare? This wasn't right at all…

With no one to turn to and nowhere to go, she took up refuge in the tool shed where she remained for days. It was there she started to piece together tid bits of what she had been experiencing since she awoke, six feet under in what was she guessed; her grave.

Her heart did not beat. It was naught but dead weight in her bosom. She had no need to breathe though her body seem to perform the movement anyway from what she assumed was simply her body not knowing enough to stop.

She discovered the next day she had become sensitive to sunlight. When she had stepped out from the shed. Within minutes her skin would burn, bubbled, and blister.

At night she would search for food, and although it tasted good, she could eat until she was bloated and vomit and still feel starved. Nothing seemed to stay down for long anyway…

This became all to clear a week later as she walked the streets and came upon an unconscious cyclist, laying partly on the sidewalk and party on the grass beside. He was bruised and bloody, his bike some feet away.

Her first instinct was to help but as she drew nearer, the intention aid the man slowly changed. She knelt down, the scent of his blood caused her nostrils to flare. It was so sweet and intoxicating, inhaling it deeply.

She reached for him and pulled him closer as she bent over the damaged fleshy frame of the mortal. Her mind was slowed, her senses dulled, her pupils dilated flooding her irises completely. She became unaware of her surroundings, she couldn't control herself.

She ran the tip of her tongue along the cyclist's lacerated cheek. It was that moment, something in her snapped. She tore into his flesh like a lion to an antelope. Her teeth sunk deep into his left carotid artery. The warm crimson liquid flowed into her, filling that hunger she felt so long.

It wasn't until the man in her arms began to scream and struggle as he was regaining his consciousness, that she realised what she was doing.

Releasing him immediately, she gasped and scrambled to her feet, feeling a primal growl in her throat. The man lay there, hand clasped over his neck attempting to stop the bleeding. He called for help, but he was weak and fading fast.

All she could do was watch in horror at what she had done. Only broke from her state from the flash of headlights from a car headed down the lane towards them, her shadow cast over victim.

She needed to help him but not get caught. How could she explain… _this_ …?

With only moments to think, she rushed to the man's cycle and threw it into the street within the vehicle's path before dashing behind the nearest tree that was thick enough to conceal her.

The driver slammed on the breaks, screeching the car to a stop before hitting the metal fame on the road. She watched on as a couple hurried out and to the man to help him as she meant to do. Minutes later they drove off once more with the cyclists in the back seat.

After washing up at the edge of the Huston River, she returned to Oak Hill cemetery, to where she was reborn from the earth.

Around the torn up grave site were steaks with caution tape. She ignored the yellow and black plastic ribbons, ducking under she walked to the monument on which a small stone fairy sat.

Etched on the stone were her favourite flowers; lily of the valley. Eyes moist, she read "In Loving Memory. Sarah Lynda Williams. Beloved daughter and loving sister. Nov 8th 1970 - Nov 1st 1990." she sunk to her knees and wept at the base.

She had died. She never left that hospital alive. She had died...

At least, her human body did. Yet here she was, crying at her own headstone over her own grave, in which lay her own casket, though thoroughly destroyed.

Her chest heaved and she wailed in her grief.

All was painfully clear now, the truth of her unnatural state. No sun, no heartbeat, no breath. Food did not slake her hunger. It now seemed in order to sustain her existence and replenish her flesh and strength, she needed to consume the physical form of ones life's essence; blood.

She was what she was known to be; vampire. Or so it would appear. She had yet to learn the truth behind her circumstances.

Time moved slowly after that night it felt like. Weeks grew into months and she adjusted to her new self as best she could. Her first feedings were a disaster, her first dead body was... well she tried not to do that. .. Too often anymore.

She learned she could put her victims in a suggestive trance. She would take what she needed, money, clothes, blood, and then send them off with no memory. She also discovered that she did have inhuman strength but could not move with super speed or walk on walls like in the movies. Also unlike in those films, she had to do things to keep her vascular system flowing smoothly, like yoga, as it worked well. Though she couldn't explain how the blood moved through her veins without being pumped, in fact there was a great many things she had no explanation for. The only thing she could think was; magic.

Months grew into a year and then two. Shifting from place to place, aimless, she simply existed. She did search and find her family but decided no matter how much her chest ached, she should not see them. She was a ghost to them now, nothing more than a painful memory that was buried when she was.

She turned her attention to the 'Underground' as she recalled it. Where she was sure this began. However, attempting to gather information about a place, according to the human world, did not exists, was no easy task. Though she had never been one to listen to others in that regard.

It wasn't until the third year, when she met Miir, she began to feel like herself again.

They met in an antique store Miir ran on the side to her bordello, in that very same building they both live now. She came in looking for some old books upon hearing from another book store that Miir's shop was the only place she might be able to find it, if she was lucky.

Miir came over, offering assistance as most shop keepers did. Miir back then appeared to have rich auburn hair, fair skinned with the other freckle here and there, and sage green eyes with a friendly smile. She had lead her into a back-room that seemed more like a Victorian study, behind a silvery curtain that she did not brush to one side, they had passed straight through and as they did, Miir's appearance changed to was she was used to seeing now. A small surprised at first but though her travels she had noticed she had the sight to see beyond humans in this world. She could see all manner of beings but approaching them was less than ideal if she could even get close.

She was told that she'd find what she was looking for was in that room but it could not leave the building. She there she searched the shelves of many a leather-bound book. And there she spent many days over the next few weeks. Miir started to brew tea for her visits and soon they were talking as if they were old friends. It wasn't long they became true friends and more. They were as close as sisters now, as well as on occasion; lovers.

She always felt relaxed by Miir's presence. It was no wonder really, she had the uncanny ability to make everyone around her relax. Most likely because it was part of her natural charm as a succubus. And although they found comfort in each other's arms, and loved the other as friends. They concluded they could never love one other romantically but still stayed bed buddies as Miir couldn't really feed off her life's energy. Miir explained it was like eating junk food, it filled a hold but there was no nutritional value in it for her. And she could not feed of Miir in return. They both got curious one night and she bit Miir. It was probably one of the worst ideas she ever had as she was spewing black, tar like blood everywhere. She was sick for days.

Admittedly it was a massive relief she had somebody who she could talk to. She had no one she could even mention the labyrinth to without thinking she was crazy. Miir was not only interested but excited to hear all about it. She'd hit up auctions and dealers to find all the books, tomes, and manuscripts that may possibly even mention it or hint to the other realms.

They'd talk and research for hours on the floor of the back-room of that shop every day. Then Miir started inviting her into her apartment on the top floor.

Later she found out the entire building itself was built over a magical nexus. One of so very few in this world. She was explained that all the different worlds and realms were all connected with threads like a spider's web and theirs had the least amount of threads out of all. She also was told that all the residents of it were beings from other realms. It was a place they could live comfortably among humans and remain close to a stable well of power. Even run shops along the main floor.

It was now her home.

Miir hired her as the new shop keeper and antique dealer so she could focus more on her other job; professional entertainer and madam of La Lanterne Rouge. A brothel in the base of this building, where none of the ladies were human as well. There was always an abundance of mortal men and even some women who couldn't get enough of the supernatural ladies. They'd pay and arm and a leg just for a few minutes with them.

At first she was shocked and slightly disgusting but came to understand these females were from rough lives. Miir gathered them from around the world during her several centuries on Earth. Many beaten, starved of that magic life line they so desperately need, and on the brink. There were an astonishing amount of simply stumbled into the veil though the majority never make it back out again. The ones that ended up here were the lucky ones. Forever walking the veil between the worlds is a fate worse than death.

But Miir gave the ones that did make it a safe place, she had them schooled them, taught them life skills, fed them, clothed them, and paid for further education if they so desire. She gave them a choice to go or stay. Most stayed, happily. She was good to women and was proud to be female. However she did not care for men. They were simply a means to an end aside from a select few she treated with respect and took them in as well.

Sarah grinned completely lost in her memories her thoughts were soon broken and pulled back to reality when Miir asked why she was smiling.

"Huh?" Sarah said bemused.

Raising a brow, Miir repeated herself "I said; what are you smiling about"

"Oh, I was just thinking about how we met, and before that..." she cleared her throat and sipped her drink which she subsequently forgotten she had.

"Ah. I was wondering why you were so quiet. Normally talking about our next trip" she chuckled.

"Oh, like you don't like it" Sarah snorted half heartily. "But now you mention it..."

Miir tilted her head and hummed at her.

Sarah sighed and leaned her head back again the leather of her seat before continuing "I decided where I want to go"

"Oh? Where's that" asked Miir, bringing her glass to her lips for another sip.

Still resting her head in a craned position on the back of her seat, she turned to look at her demonic sister "The labyrinth"


	3. David Bowie

**Extremely sad news has spread across the internet like a horrible virus**

 **David Bowie**  
 **Has passed away this evening**  
 **He lost is battle to cancer and died peacefully surrounded by his friends and family..**

 **I wish to express my deep sadness at his loss... our loss. He was an artist and a legend. And for us Labyrinthians, he was our Jareth and forever will be...**  
 **peacefully our friend!**


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